Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying

Chapter 950 Brave People
The rain poured down relentlessly, making the leaden sky seem as if it might collapse at any moment.

Large raindrops pounded on the asphalt road, on the windowsill, and on the roof of a black magic car, making a crackling sound.

The car door was suddenly pushed open.

As Salina Goldstein stepped out of the carriage, the floodwaters burst open with a "pop," and her black raincoat fluttered in the strong wind.

Rainwater streamed down the edge of her hood, forming a curtain of water, but it couldn't conceal the resolute flame burning in her eyes.

She stood ramrod straight and strode forward, followed quickly by two Aurors, both wearing raincoats, but their eyes held worry and fear.

“Think about it again, Salina!” one of them shouted. “Perhaps things aren’t like that? Why don’t we investigate for a few more days…”

"Lopez, you either go back, or shut up and come with me!" Salina shouted. "I will never regret it, and I will never turn back!"

So the other two stopped talking, but they didn't leave either.

The three walked through the empty street towards a tall building ahead, with a brand-new gold sign hanging at the entrance:
“FMC New York Branch”.

Salina pushed open the heavy oak door, the wind chimes on it jingling rapidly, their sound instantly drowned out by the torrential rain outside.

FMC's main control room was spacious but cluttered, with various posters plastered on the walls, prop boxes piled up in the corners, and several casually dressed staff members gathered around a flickering mirror, adjusting something.

Different images scrolled across the huge curved main screen wall, and the supervisor, Nelson, was loudly directing the busy staff while holding a stack of manuscripts in his hand.

The doorbell rang, and everyone's eyes turned to the three uninvited guests at the door—especially the woman in the lead who was taking off her raincoat.

"Director Goldstein?"

Upon seeing the director of the Auror office command center, Nelson, a bespectacled man with thinning hair, stood up from behind the control panel, strode forward, and asked in surprise:
"In this weather... what brings you here?"

Without exchanging pleasantries, Salina casually tossed her raincoat to her companion behind her, walked straight to Nelson, took out a document protected by a waterproof charm from her bosom, and slammed it onto the control panel.

“I need to use your studio for a national live broadcast,” Salina said firmly. “Right now!”

Nelson glanced down at the document—an emergency authorization order from the Auror's office, with Salina Goldstein listed as the authorizer—but this was obviously against regulations.

“This is…” Nelson hesitated: “Director Goldstein, according to regulations, you have no authority…”

"Have you seen today's newspaper?" Salina interrupted him, leaning forward slightly, her sharp eyes fixed on Nelson.

Nielsen stammered, "Of course...we...we have another interview with Acting Chairwoman Leila Picqueli next..."

"Then don't stop me!"

Salina stepped closer, her threat clear: "Otherwise, you'll receive a notice tomorrow—every single word of what you broadcast from now on will have to be reviewed by the Auror office, or it won't be allowed on Streaming! I mean what I say!"

Nelson almost burst out laughing.

Since the introduction of the Mirror, countless politicians have tried to use it to control them. If the FMC could be threatened by a director of a command, they would have been unable to continue operating long ago.

But just as Nelson was about to utter the words of refusal, he saw Salina's eyes—

That wasn't the look of a politician trying to profit from the FMC; he was all too familiar with that look... those eyes belonged to a fearless warrior.

The other staff in the control room all stopped what they were doing and looked at them with relaxed and leisurely expressions. Thunder rumbled outside the window, and the white light of lightning cut sharp lines of light and shadow on Salina's face through the gaps in the blinds.

Nelson's Adam's apple bobbed as he thought back to that earlier statement—the newspaper…and the earthquake-like report from this morning…

Nelson's heart skipped a beat, and he suddenly understood something.

He paused for half a second, then feigned a submissive demeanor, took a step back, raised his hand, and said:
"Alright, alright... Since it's an emergency authorization from the Auror office, we'll definitely cooperate. How much time do you need?"

Many staff members stared at him in astonishment, then looked at Salina.

Salina secretly breathed a sigh of relief—she hadn't thought it would go so smoothly—but on the surface, she kept a straight face and said:

"Fifteen minutes...give me fifteen minutes, and I'll take full responsibility after that."

Nelson looked utterly helpless, his shoulders slumping.

He nodded, turned to his men, and said, "Get ready. Clear Studio Three. We'll connect to the national main channel in three minutes. Activate maximum power signal boost... What are you all standing around for? Get moving, guys!"

The staff busied themselves, and one of the young men, while packing up, secretly went to Nelson's side and whispered:

"Are we really going to accept their terms? If this gets back to headquarters, Mr. Marchionni's wrath will be no joke!"

Nelson asked sternly, "What are we?"

"Huh?" the young man asked, puzzled. "An FMC wizard...?"

“We are all American wizards.” Nelson’s gaze shifted to Salina as she entered Studio Three, and he said in a low voice, “We can’t always turn a blind eye to certain things.”

……

Studio Three is small and simple. A huge mirror occupies the entire wall, currently in standby mode, faithfully reflecting the room's furnishings. Several magic lamps hang overhead, casting a cool white light.

Salina stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself: her hair was slightly disheveled from being wet by the rain, her face was very pale from exhaustion and tension, but those eyes... those eyes burned with a kind of almost sacred determination.

Her companions Anderson and Lopez stood in the doorway. Young Anderson finally couldn't help but speak, his voice filled with worry:
“Salina…do we really have to do this? Shouldn’t we try to get the support of the other committee members first? Or wait for Principal Fontana’s response? I’m not a coward, but what you’re doing is far too dangerous.”

"There are no 'what ifs' anymore, Anderson."

Salina didn't turn around; her gaze remained fixed on herself in the mirror. "There's no time to wait or hesitate any longer!"

She turned around, facing her only two comrades-in-arms, her voice echoing in the small studio, every word resounding:
"What oath did we swear the day we put on this uniform? 'To uphold the laws and order of the magical world, and to protect the innocent from harm, whether the threat comes from outside or from within.'"

Her voice suddenly rose, filled with long-suppressed anger and sorrow:
"The threat is now within our own ranks! Lyra Picqueri and the forces behind her—for power, they can frame an honest chairman, cover up the inhumane experiments Muggles conduct on wizards, and allow forbidden things like time magic to take the lives and futures of their colleagues!"

“They sit in the Capitol and weave a throne of lies, while Chairman Hawthorne—we all know how good he is—is now a wanted man!”

Her chest heaved violently, and tears welled up in her eyes for the first time, but she immediately suppressed them.

“If we remain silent now and allow ambitious people to run rampant, what kind of Aurors are we? What meaning do our badges have?”

"I want to tell the truth and let all my compatriots see what's going on. Then... then they can arrest me, they can try me, I accept that. But at least, before I'm dragged into prison, I want people to know that Chairman Hawthorne is innocent!!"

(End of this chapter)